


the give and take of it

by heatdeath (keptein)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/heatdeath
Summary: Koutarou has fantasies. Kenma fulfills them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cooler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cooler/gifts).



> so i debated whether to post it at all, because it's _filthy_ , but the bokuken tag is so starved that it needs all the love it can get. anyway, happy birthday, ace! you're excellent and you let me be delightfully indulgent with your birthday present. i hope this brings you much comfort (lmao). thanks to bip for looking this over and saying it was "disgusting but good".
> 
> set in a future where bokuto, akaashi, kuroo and kenma live together. akaashi and kuroo are away for reasons. kenma and bokuto are both trans dudes.

“Say it, Bokkun.” Kenma’s voice is low and dangerous. His eyes are gleaming in the faint light, and his fingers are buried inside Koutarou, making him gasp and shiver as they twist. “You know you're going to have to.”

“Fuck off,” Koutarou moans. He tries to shift, to create leverage so he can move against Kenma’s fingers, but Kenma keeps his thighs down with his own body weight, pressing on his stomach with his free hand.  _ “God,  _ Kenma…”

“You're such a whore,” Kenma says crudely, and Koutarou wheezes a laugh. “No wonder it takes three partners to keep you satisfied.”

“How original,” Koutarou gets out, hissing as Kenma presses another finger in. “The poly person's a slut.”

“Not everyone… just you. After all, I'm not."

“Mmngh,” Koutarou says instead of replying, head falling back.  _ “Please,  _ please just put it in, you sick fuck, you asshole -  _ ah--!” _

Kenma forcefully presses four fingers into Koutarou’s cunt, thumb on his clit like it's a button, and when Koutarou bucks Kenma moves with him, keeping his fingers pressed deep, deep inside him.

_ “Say it,” _ he says again, and Koutarou moans and curls into his side, panting.

“Fill me up,” he says finally, swallowing, “please, Kenma, I want you to fill me up, I need it.”

Kenma smiles and pulls his fingers out of him, savouring the lost whimper that resonates from Koutarou’s throat. “It took you long enough,” he says, wiping his wet fingers on his thigh. “You're so wet, Bokkun. It's disgusting.”

“Shut  _ up,”  _ Koutarou groans, hips rolling weakly, seeking pressure.

Kenma is the only one who doesn't care about Koutarou’s mouth. Keiji punishes it, and Tetsurou delights in it, but Kenma just lets it run its course, finding it easier to ignore the foulness Koutarou spouts before he slips. He uncaps the lube, warming it between his hands before he starts to smooth it over one of the dildos.

“‘S so weird when it's just the two of us,” Koutarou is saying. He sounds like he's come down a little, so Kenma starts to push the dildo into him.  _ “Oh,  _ that's good, yeah - just, you know what I mean, right?”

“Not really,” Kenma says, watching Koutarou shudder as the dildo bottoms out. “You babble enough for three people.”

“You don't,” Koutarou says, and he tries to sound sullen, but the gasps and moans as Kenma starts to move the dildo in and out of him betray the facade he's putting up. “You're so fuckin’ quiet, Kenma, but it's okay - ah, it's one of the things I like about you -”

“It's one of the things I like about me too,” Kenma says, and Koutarou’s laugh turns into a sharp cry as Kenma pushes the dildo deep into him, at the same time pressing his lubed-up finger into Koutarou’s hole.

_ “Shit,  _ Kenma, take it out, take it out, it's too much, I can't do it -”

“You can,” Kenma says, letting the dildo rest where it's buried in his cunt, curling his finger in Koutarou’s ass. “We've barely started.”

“Fuuck,” Koutarou moans, long and drawn-out as he arches. “God, this is so much, you're so  _ much…” _

Kenma smiles a little, stroking Koutarou’s trembling thigh. Penetration never really tempts Kenma - he finds it odd and unpleasant, so seeing what it does to Koutarou is like looking into an alien experience. Koutarou hungers for it in the same way he hungers for all sensation, hungers to be pushed to his limits, the way he craves challenge. And like this, Kenma is more than willing to provide the challenge. “Are you ready for another one?”

Koutarou shifts and whines. It's not an answer, so Kenma raps his thigh lightly, and Koutarou pants out, “yes, yeah, okay, a second one, you're gonna kill me, you know that, right?”

“I plan to,” Kenma’s says, and again he waits until Koutarou starts laughing before he pushes another finger in. It's one of his favourite sounds, the way Koutarou laughs when he's in bed, breathless and excited. The way it cuts off when Kenma moves, sharp and stuttering like a crack of lightning - it makes his spine tingle. Shutting Koutarou up is its own art form, and it has its appeals.

Like right now, actually. Kenma has been so absorbed in the process that only now does he raise his gaze to take Koutarou in. He's sprawled on the king-size bed, panting with his fists wrapped around the headboard, muscles bunched up and tense under his skin. He's almost like a textbook anatomy sculpture, the way muscle plays so visibly over his frame, something carved in marble for Kenma to dip his fingers into. It's even better to break something like Koutarou down, because he gets to take something so visibly perfect and change it just how he wants.

It's like character creation, Kenma thinks briefly, and snorts with laughter.

“Are you  _ laughing  _ at me?” Koutarou demands breathily from below him. “Kenma…!”

“Not everything is about you,” Kenma says, but he kisses one of Koutarou’s knees in apology. “How are you feeling?”

“Full,” Koutarou says, and he’s grinning again, cheeky and wide. “‘S good.”

“Are you ready to stop giving me lip?”

“Oh, never,” Koutarou sighs, moving back against Kenma’s fingers languidly. “I love giving lip, you know… All kinds of lip, in fact.”

Kenma laughs, short and abrupt. “I know,” he says, but doesn't grant Koutarou with more of a reply, content to listen to his moans and sighs as Kenma continues to open him up, fingers spreading and coming together.

“Feels so good,” Koutarou says, sighing and arching his hips. “Can take another.”

Kenma nods and pushes his ring finger in alongside the two others, and Koutarou whines in pain and writhes on top of the sheets, straining. “Relax,” Kenma tells him, voice hushed. “You can take it.”

_ “Hurts,” _ Koutarou moans, eyes closed - the humour is gone from his face, so now he just looks painfully aroused, muscles tense and trembling.

“Relax,” Kenma says again. His fingers are still inside Bokuto, pressed together so hard it hurts. “Relax, Koutarou.”

“Mmn,” Koutarou gets out, but his breathing is starting to slow, the tightness around Kenma’s fingers beginning to give in starts and stops.

“Imagine,” Kenma starts, watching Koutarou intently, “if you were doing this for Keiji and Tetsurou. You would be good, wouldn't you?”

A shiver runs through Koutarou, and he clenches around Kenma’s fingers, inhaling sharply. “Yes,” he says after a moment, “yes, yes, I would.”

“Good boy,” Kenma says, amused as he watches another shiver run through Koutarou. The brain stuff never really interests him - the dynamic, the words, the exchange of power, all of that captivates Keiji and Tetsurou much more than it does him. Kenma is interested in what he can make people do, what he can make people take, but he also knows how to push Koutarou’s buttons, and Koutarou… Koutarou loves all of it. “Tell me how you'd be for them.”

“If they were - ah - if they were both fucking me, you mean?” Koutarou asks. Kenma curls his fingers in response, and Koutarou gasps, back bowing. “Well - I'd be, I'd be good - I'm sure Keiji would want me to talk about the pain, ow, ah -”

“I'm not interested in that,” Kenma says. “You have a vivid imagination, don't you? Use it.”

“I don't know -”

“I'll help you,” Kenma says, and starts pushing at the dildo with his free hand. It's started to move out of Koutarou, so when Kenma presses it back in he cries out, trying to pull himself up towards the headboard to get away from the stimuli.

“Kenma, Kenma, please, ah, shit, this - it's too much, too much -”

“Tell me,” Kenma interrupts him, shifting to pull his jeans tight against his own groin, a parody of pressure. “What it would be like.”

Koutarou whines and tosses, rendered speechless as Kenma fucks him with his fingers and the dildo, but finally he gasps out,  _ “good,  _ fuck, it would be good, so good, so, so good -”

“Are you ready for them both?” Kenma asks, a tremor to his voice revealing how aroused he is too. His underwear is soaked, almost without him noticing - it's too easy to be absorbed in Koutarou. 

Koutarou whimpers, tensing, before he takes a deep breath and nods unsteadily.

“Good boy,” Kenma says again with a faint smile and pulls his fingers out, not giving Koutarou time to breathe as he lubes up a second, smaller dildo and presses it into Koutarou’s ass. Koutarou bucks and moans loudly, writhing, and over his noises, Kenma says, “This is Keiji.. since it's smaller.”

_ “Fuck,”  _ Koutarou says loudly, and then he's laughing and swearing, whole body heaving with laughter and then shaking with stimulation. “That's so - ah - mean!”

“It's the truth,” Kenma says, distracted by the sight Koutarou makes, stuffed and sweaty and laughing. “It's not a bad thing.”

“You're - nngh, you're not s’posed to say that stuff -”

“Okay,” Kenma says, pulling the dildo out slowly and then punching it back in. Koutarou  _ keens,  _ whole body clenching at the sensation, and if Kenma gave a shit about the neighbours, now is when he'd worry. But they have to be used to it by now, or they can move - Kenma doesn't care enough to consider the sound levels as he drives both of the dildos into Koutarou, and the noise Koutarou makes is painful, a rasping scream as Kenma fucks him harder and faster, hands slippery with lube where they grab the edges of the dildos, making him clumsy and rough. Koutarou clearly doesn't mind, moaning and gasping and rolling around on the sheets, pushing against the stimuli one moment and then shying away the next. He looks like a debauched god, like filthy concept art for a game meant to jerk off to - he looks like idealised porn, except he's  _ real _ , every inch of him.

Kenma has a choice. Either he can keep fucking Koutarou like this, until he starts drooling and babbling and going out of his mind, or he can stop one activity to push one hand down his pants and touch his dick where it's leaking through his underwear, making even his thighs wet with want. It's difficult to choose, but he's absorbed in the waves of pleasure rolling through Koutarou, the way he loses himself in the stimulation, and the burn between his legs is an exquisite kind, so it can wait.

“Kenma, Kenma,” Koutarou moans, his voice loud and rough and gasping,  _ “fuck,  _ Kenma -”

Kenma had grand plans of what to do with their rare night alone, plans of taking Koutarou apart piece by piece and making him extol on all his filthy fantasies, plans of making him talk about being fucked senseless in every possible way he could dream of, but as usual, Koutarou is impossible to plan around - he's already groaning helplessly under the dildos, and Kenma is surprised he hasn't come once already.

Koutarou reaches out with a shaky hand and Kenma slaps it, taking his hand off the dildo buried in Koutarou’s cunt to do so. The sound is weak compared to Koutarou’s moans and the slick, wet sounds of the dildos sliding in and out of him, but it still makes Koutarou whimper. “Hands around the headboard,” Kenma tells him, and he sounds painfully turned on even to his own ears, his voice hoarse and rasping.

“Sorry,” Koutarou whines, and when Kenma grabs the hilt of the dildo again he fucks it into Koutarou forcefully, pushes it in beyond what's pleasurable until it's just big and painful inside him, and Koutarou cries out at the sensation, bucking and writhing and trying to pull away.  _ “Kenma,  _ Kenma, it's so big, please, I can't - this is too much, t-too much - please, please -”

“Are you begging for more?”

“No, n-no,  _ fuck,  _ yes, God, I don't know--! Ah, I'm - g--  _ fuck, Kenma--!”  _ Koutarou shouts and wrenches away, both dildos slipping out of him as he curls up on his side to twitch hopelessly, whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm. “Hnn, hnn,  _ ah,  _ oh, God..”

Kemma watches Koutarou, the tense line of his back and where slick and lube has smeared all over his inner thighs, making them glisten in the light. For a brief moment, he wishes he could ejaculate just to cover Koutarou in it, but it's enough that Tetsurou and Keiji can, and right now he has much more pressing matters to attend to.

“Fuck me, holy shit, holy shit,” Koutarou is mumbling into the mattress, delirious and unaware as Kenma pulls his shorts off with shaking hands. He's so full of want that it feels unsafe. It's rarely this consuming, because Kenma keeps sex at a distance, but sometimes it still slips under his defenses to settle in the pit of his stomach, like a hungry, needy thing. “Holy shit, fuckin’ knew you were up to something,  _ God,  _ Kenma…”

“You're not done,” Kenma tells him, touching Koutarou’s thigh to get his attention. “I want you to suck me off.”

Koutarou sits up, a slow, languid motion. He looks blissful and post-coital. “Now?”

“Yes, now,” Kenma says, spreading his legs. His dick feels painful between his thighs, and he's close to humping the mattress for some kind of relief, so he smacks Koutarou’s shoulder lightly to get him to hurry up. With a confident, happy smile, Koutarou scoots down to put his face where Kenma is slick and pulsing.

“Love you,” Koutarou says, and then he sucks hard at Kenma’s dick, and Kenma falls back with a gasp, eyes closing and face twisting at the intensity of the sensation.

“Koutarou,” Kenma gasps out, fist tight in Koutarou’s hair. That's all he lets himself utter, but his thighs come up tight like a vice on either side of Koutarou’s head, keeping his face pressed tight against Kenma’s dick. Koutarou moans, his tongue soft and hot as he curls it around Kenma, licking and sucking until Kenma is struggling to breathe -

He's got one knuckle in his mouth, biting down on it so hard the skin is about to give, but it's so painfully good, finally being touched after so long of denying himself -

“Shit,” Kenma whispers into his hand, and then he comes, face twisting and thighs tensing around Koutarou’s head, keeping his tongue there as it licks and licks and licks, and it starts to hurt, a good hurt,  _ such  _ a good hurt -

Until suddenly it's too much and he pushes Koutarou away with his foot, panting harshly and lying back against the mattress. The lack of stimuli and the cold air on his genitals is almost as overwhelming as Koutarou’s intense attention had been, but it slowly starts to recede even as Kenma continues to twitch with the force of his orgasm.

His eyes are closed, but he can feel the mattress move as Koutarou shifts around to lie beside him. “God, you're so hot,” Koutarou says. 

“Mm,” Kenma says. His head feels fuzzy. 

“Mandatory cuddle time.”

“Not yet,” Kenma groans, moving with difficulty to curl up on his side, away from Koutarou.

“You fool!” Koutarou cackles, pressing his chest tight up against Kenma’s back. He slings his arm around Kenma’s waist, pulling them even closer together. “You fell for my evil plot! Now we're in the perfect spooning position.”

Kenma sighs loudly. Almost imperceptibly, he hooks one ankle over Koutarou’s. “That's not true,” he says quietly. “The perfect spooning position for you is when you're the little spoon.”

Koutarou hisses like he's been hurt, but presses a kiss to Kenma’s nape. “You're not s’posed to know that,” he says. “Besides, you're here and we're spooning. So it's my favourite spooning position.”

Silence is falling, now that the sweat is drying, the smell of sex receding, the adrenaline dissipating. “Really?” Kenma says, almost a murmur. He doesn't know where it comes from, something sudden and vulnerable in his chest, just over where Koutarou’s large palm is resting. “You're not too bored?”

Koutarou pauses.

It's been a long time since Kenma thought of himself as boring; he has reconciled that he is an acquired taste, and with Tetsurou by his side he's always known that he could never be the main attraction. He never wanted to be the main attraction before, perfectly content to stay a wallflower, but Koutarou is so all-encompassing and so passionate. Koutarou pulls out so much energy from Tetsurou and Keiji, and they readily rise to the occasion, unlike Kenma, who often finds himself the spectator to an unlikely trio. It's not a role he minds.

It's not. But when there is no one else for Koutarou to be entertained by, he can't help but wonder if he's enough.

“Bored?” Koutarou says finally. His voice is serious and still hoarse. “With you, Kenma? Never.”

Kenma hums, frowning a little. “Okay.”

“I promise.”

Kenma falls quiet.

“D’you think I'm annoying?” Koutarou asks the nape of his neck, so close that Kenma can feel the hairs Koutarou’s lips touch.

“No,” Kenma says softly. “Well… sometimes. But never for long.”

“I love you,” Koutarou says. Kenma doesn't know whether it's a token of apology or reprimand - whether he's sorry to have annoyed Kenma, or mad that Kenma is too blunt. Kenma hopes it's the latter. He doesn't mean to hurt him.

“I love you too,” Kenma says. “Sorry for saying that. I don't think you're annoying.”

“It's okay,” Koutarou says. “Really, it's okay. It's… I mean, because I feel that way with - with Keiji too, and with Tetsu, and I think you just feel that way with everyone at some point, even if you love them. So sometimes I'm disappointed that you don't wanna do shit with me, like go for walks or go to the movies or something, but that's part of what makes us different, and I like that we're different. All four of us, you know? Like, with Keiji it upsets me sometimes that he doesn't hold back - in a different way than you - whereas Tetsu sometimes holds onto a joke for too long, but that's them. And I love them. And I love you. And you love me, even if I'm annoying sometimes.”

Kenma blinks. His eyelashes brush against his cheeks when he does, soothing and rhythmic. “That's a good way of saying it,” he says finally, moving back into Koutarou. “I do. Very much.”

“I know,” Koutarou says simply. A year ago, this conversation never could have taken place, the space between all of them too filled with uncertainty and miscommunication, and the fact that it's happening so easily now makes a warm feeling unfurl in Kenma’s chest.

“Good. Now…” he glances absently at the clock. “Twenty five minutes until I have full LP.”

“Perfect,” Koutarou says with a laugh, cuddling closer. “Twenty five minutes of mandatory snuggle time.”

That's not so bad, Kenma thinks to himself, holding Koutarou’s hand and feeling his broad, warm chest against his back. Twenty five minutes is just enough.

  
  
  


_ POST SCRIPT: _

Akaashi K: Please say there are pictures.

Akaashi K: Kenma. Please.

Akaashi K: I can't wait until we get home. I miss seeing you. 

Kuroo T: Did you do it?

Kuroo T: IDK if Keiji said it but if you didn't film it I'm breaking up with you

Kuroo T: I miss you two </3 Hope u miss me too! Give Kou a kiss from me x

Kuroo T: Gonna have a lot of fun when we get back hehe

 


End file.
